


shut down (please stand back up)

by smolderholders



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Character Death, Fix-It of Sorts, Guilt, Infinity Stones, Little bit of smut, M/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 16:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolderholders/pseuds/smolderholders
Summary: steve has said goodbye many times, but this is the final one.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 43





	shut down (please stand back up)

_Steve isn't quite sure how it happens. _One second, he's watching Tony and Strange's exchange in slow motion, watching Strange raise one finger in some kind of gesture that sends ice through Steve's gut and for a second it feels like he's _drowning _again. Whatever it is that has been communicated between them, he knows that whatever Tony is about to do, he can't let it happen. In what feels like a bought of adrenaline, the ice still sitting firmly in Steve's lungs, making it hard to breathe but somehow easier as well, he's closing the distance where Thanos and Tony are fighting for the gauntlet.

His mind doesn't even think about it, Steve grabs onto Tony's nanotech armour and _wills _it onto his own body. He's not sure how it works, but the Iron Man red is forming along his forearm and Tony is staring at him with this look of surprise and devastation in those amber eyes of his. Steve's not quite sure why. Sure, Tony had told him that he didn't want to resent what had happened between them all those years ago, but that didn't mean their relationship had been restored to what it was. Steve had told Tony he trusted him without pause when asked in what felt like forever ago, but was really only a couple of hours. Because Steve did, without question, even after everything that had happened in Siberia. Even after Tony came back from space and slammed the arc reactor into his palm, _no trust, liar._

Steve, who knew he loved Tony since he watched the Malibu house _blow up _and didn't know the man was alive until everything with the Mandarin and Killian had been cleared up. But Tony was with Pepper and was happy, so as much as Steve had pined, he would never get in the way of something Tony had been searching for for all his life. Then everything had happened with Bucky, so Steve felt like he didn't have a right to be included in Tony's happiness.

Steve had waited until Tony was a little better, but asleep before he entered the room, delicately placed the device on the table, whispered "_I'm so sorry, Tony_," and left. He pretended he didn't feel Tony's eyes on him as he walked out of the room in the compound, and basically onto the ship that Rocket, Natasha, Rhodey, Thor, Nebula, Carol, Bruce, and him were going to use to find Thanos.

But still, the look of devastation didn't leave the brown irises of Tony's eyes as the Infinity Stones found their places on the knuckles of the stolen gauntlet. Steve felt his veins flare on fire, but it was cold, so cold, like he was going under again. The pain settled, sparking nerve endings and Steve could feel the serum trying to fix it, trying to do its job and keep him in peak human condition. His whole body went taunt with the feeling, he could feel his arm muscles straining with the power, clenching painfully and knew that his body was dying, starting from the knuckles and spreading outward.

Thanos had told Tony, _"I am inevitable," _as Steve had grabbed the gauntlet, snapping his fingers with a smirk on his face. However, that expression was gone, replaced with his own look of surprise. Steve took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, his chin raising, before he said, "_And I'm just a kid from Brooklyn._"

He snapped.

The world whitened out.

▫ ▫ ▫

Steve opened his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing when he was back in New York. And not the New York that he had gotten used to, with the cars and the sidewalks filled with people on cellphones, Avengers Tower in the distance. Instead, there were children playing in the street, one calling out a warning as an old car came slowly down the road. A boy with a flat cap and a fabric sack rushed by, newspaper waving as he hollered about what the headlines were on that particular day.

The street was not as busy as it would have been today, the architecture different, and it took a moment for Steve to realize that he was back in the 1940s. But, he himself wasn't back to the body he had been used to in that time, the small sickly one. Instead, he was post-Project: Rebirth, though he was wearing a plaid and a pair of slacks, feeling the hole in the side of his shoe as he turned. The world was tinged blue, something that Steve only started to notice when he truly look, had to get himself to focus, but it was hard. It hurt his head more than it should have.

A hand landed firmly on his shoulder, bringing his attention back to where he was. Steve turned to see Bucky standing there, looking at him with an expression of confusion. And like everything, Bucky was like his old self. His hair was cut in the short way he had it in the War, his face was clean-shaven, and there was no metal arm. Plus, his eyes were alight with something that hasn't been there since the War, something that made Steve's heart clench hard in his chest. Thinking back to these days always hurt because Bucky had been so young -- they both had been -- but all the pain hadn't been there. Bucky could still look at the world around him and see hope, not like when he was the Winter Soldier. The light that was in his blue eyes was starting to come back in the future, but it would never be as prominent as it was in the '40s.

"Hey, Punk, thought I told you to wait for me while I handled the bill. Gail was getting real excited about going dancing with the one and only _Captain America_." Steve couldn't help himself. He took the step towards Bucky and threw his arms around him, all the longing for this attitude from the man hitting Steve like a train. As much as he was grateful to have Bucky back in the future, this time period was the last time he had truly had his best friend. "Okay, Big Guy, why are you acting so weird?"

At the sound of his voice, Steve pulled away. Bucky was looking at him with confusion mixed in with concern, but Steve didn't have an answer to any question that Bucky probably had. How was he supposed to explain to whatever Bucky this was that the future had been awful to him? That in whatever timeline that Steve had left, he had been tortured and made into a weapon?

He couldn't do it. He didn't want to watch the light blink from Bucky's eyes.

"It's nothing, Buck," Steve told him, making sure to squeeze his shoulder in reassurance.

Bucky gave him a grin, knocking his hand off his shoulder, "Come on." He started to lead Steve down the street, and the nostalgia of their childhood rammed into Steve, almost making him lose his breath. Bucky gave him a weird look when Steve exhaled loudly, but didn't question. "I know it's been hard since Peggy decided to go back to England, but I think you're really gonna like Gail, if you just stopped brooding."

It was strange to hear _Peggy's _name fall from Bucky's lips. Especially when it had been _Tony's _name in the two years after Siberia. During all the visits where his Bucky was half there, poking fun and straining to make it seem normal between them. It was odd that Bucky seemed to always know who Steve was smitten on. And even with the ideals that they had grown up with (and the fact that it had been illegal), Bucky seemed to not care that Steve was attracted to men.

Though, it seemed he wasn't hiding his pining for Tony as well as he thought. Sharon had known during their try at a relationship, telling him gently a month or two before the debacle with Ultron that she thought they were better off as friends and that he should try to talk to Tony about things. But Tony was in a happy relationship with Pepper and Steve didn't want to ruin that if Tony did have feelings for him. The two of them fought like cat and dog and Steve could never promise the easy relationship Tony and Pepper seemed to have. So, Steve had simply not said anything at all.

So, Steve found himself following Bucky, like when he was smaller and sicker. Because if it was anything, he would always trust Bucky's decisions. Other people passed by him, but Steve couldn't look at their faces, they were blurred in a way that Bucky's wasn't, and it hurt to try and concentrate on them. The only other one that didn't hurt was a red head that was stationed across the street, staring at him with her hands in her jean pockets, leather jacket on her shoulder and looking completely out of place for the time period.

Steve knew it was Nat. He was grateful she didn't try to approach him. He had a feeling that if she did, this whole thing would be over for him.

"Stevie?" Steve looked towards Bucky again and was startled to see he had changed. The navy cap was pulled over his head, longer hair away from his face, long sleeve shirt used to hide the metal arm. The only reason Steve really knew it was the metal arm was because Bucky wasn't wearing a glove. "You okay?"

The background was still New York in the '40s and Bucky looked so out of place, Steve was sure he was staring at him with awe. And it hurt because that sparkle in Bucky's eyes were gone, left to be consumed by the hurt and guilt and this was Steve's fault. If he hadn't asked Bucky to be apart of the Howling Commandos, he probably would have survived the war.

"I'm so sorry, Buck," Steve felt his shoulders raise to his ears with tension. "I'm so sorry for everything, this is all my fault."

Bucky waved him off, his flesh hand coming back up to rest on his shoulder. "None of that. I'm with you till the end of the line, Pal, remember? If I hadn't gone to war to watch over your scrawny, stubborn ass, who would have? None of this is your fault, Steve.

"Now come on," Bucky motioned to the bar they were standing in front of, a small smile playing on his lips, "Stark's in there waiting for that dance."

"What?" Steve followed dumbly, though once he was in the bar, the lights glared blue, so bright that Steve had to close his eyes. His right arm was starting to ache, and Steve thought that maybe he was feeling what Bucky had when they had given him the metal one, but when he opened his eyes again, all he could see for a second was ash and dirt. When his vision become less bleary, he was met with Bucky, Sam, Thor, and Tony kneeling around his body. He was propped against something, whether it was rubble from the blown up Compound or something from the ship Carol had destroyed, Steve wasn't quite sure. All he knew is that his body was too numb to move. The only thing he could really feel right now was the pain pulsing from his right arm and the serum trying its hardest to fix him.

"Buck," he whispered. The man blinked at him, his eyes wet but nothing dripping down his cheeks. Steve tried to smile at him, tried to give him the reassurance that he needed. "Guess this is the end of the line, huh?"

Someone else said _Steve, don't you fucking say that. You're gonna be okay. _Steve ignored them. Reached for Bucky's flesh hand, and when given it, gave it as much of a squeeze as he could. "You can rest now."

A wet exhale escaped Bucky's lips, "You're a punk."

"Jerk." Steve blinked, but it took a little longer to open his eyes then it should have. "Don't do anything stupid until I get back," he told Bucky seriously.

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

Steve let his eyes slip shut again.

▫ ▫ ▫

This time, when he opened his eyes, Steve's world was bathed in crimson. It reminded him of Wanda's powers, the red swirls of magic that danced and swirled through her fingers and found himself taking a moment to take in the sky and the way the sun bared down on him in rays more red than usual.

He looked around the street, recognized he was still around the time period he had went into the ice in, nodded towards a silent Nat watching him, before moving towards the house that he was in front of. The pathway was well kept, the flowers in front of meticulously taken care of. He knew almost instantly who's house it was as he made his way up the steps onto the small deck, hearing the record player through the screen door.

Steve knocked on the frame, waiting to see the brunette, who showed up in the hallway connecting the house to the door and outside world, lips painted that familiar crimson she always had it. Her hair was longer, but Peggy looked the same. Tough and determined, the small hint of softness that you should never think of as a weakness because she'd prove you wrong a thousand times over. She was never weak.

She froze when she saw him, one hand moving to cover her mouth in shock. A moment later, a man called out, asking who was at the door, and came to a stop behind Peggy. Steve assumed it was her husband, the one that she had mentioned in her interview that had been playing at his exhibit in the Smithsonian.

"Steve?" Peggy asked, her voice close to tears, wet and disbelieving. Not able to help himself, Steve opened the screen door and stepped into the house, letting it slam shut behind him. He looked around, let her process some more as he stared at the pictures of her husband and her with friends -- even some of the Commandos. There was also loads of more room on the walls and surfaces for more pictures and Steve knew almost immediately that the two of them were planning on having a family.

"It's me, Peggy," Steve told her gently, taking a step forward. "I'm a little late for that dance, I think."

Peggy choked on her tears, moving out of her husband's arms and into Steve's. He squeezed her, just taking in the feel of her body and let the love that he had missed out on wash over his person. Peggy's tears were staining his shirt, but Steve could really care less as he clutched her close to him. When she finally pushed him away gently, wiping her eyes, she turned to her husband, "Steve, this is Daniel Sousa. My husband."

Steve stepped forward, holding his hand out and shaking Daniel's hand. "An honor to meet you, sir," Daniel told him, looking a little awestruck at shaking his hand. Steve noticed the crutch, didn't mention it, smiling back at him. He was truly glad that Peggy had been able to find the happiness she deserved.

"I hope you don't mind," Steve said once the two of them had stopped shaking hands, "but I'd like to steal your wife for a dance."

Peggy and Daniel exchanged a look, before Peggy was dragging Steve to the living room, leaving him in the middle of the furniture to turn the music back on. The phonograph was off to the side, record already in, ready to play. Peggy just had to put the needle down and return to Steve. With an aching feeling in his chest, Steve missed how easy it was to ask J.A.R.V.I.S to play the old classics he used to listen to back in the day. He used to be able to get lost in the music as he drew pictures of New York's (and then DC's) skyline or just people that came to mind.

When the song played, Steve was able to pull Peggy into his arms, the two of them swaying gently in time. It wasn't like the old swing dancing or even anything above just the gentle steps that moved them in circles. Steve still didn't know how to dance and he's pretty sure there wasn't enough time now for Peggy to teach him, like she had promised.

It was a minute or two of them quietly swaying, Daniel watching from where he had taken a seat on the couch, for Peggy to pull back enough to look up at him. Her gaze searched his face, probably taking in the lines and marks that had come from the aging he had down in the future. He smiled gently at her, one she didn't return, but the corner of her red painted lips did move. "Steve," her voice was soft as they completed another circle, "why are you here?"

Steve took a moment to think, looking around the room. He knew it wasn't because he was still in love with Peggy. He still loved her -- he thinks he always will -- but it had faded when he had gotten used to the future. Peggy would always be a big part of his life, his first love, but she had also moved on. He needed to respect that. She was happy here, with Daniel. Probably way more than she could ever be with him.

But, when he had first woken up from the ice, his last memory was of them setting the date. _Next Saturday, at the Stork Club. You know, I still don't know how to dance. I don't care, just be there. I'd hate to step on your fe-_

"Closure," Steve answered simply, nodding once. That's what this was. And the red tinged room pulsed with energy at the word, the song on the record almost coming to an end. Steve looked down at Peggy, giving her a sad smile. "And, I think it's a goodbye."

Peggy looked over to Daniel, the two of them having a silent conversation. Steve had seen Nat and Clint do it all the time on the field, had also seen Tony and Pepper do it during points when she would visit the Tower. Steve didn't want to think about that he and Bucky used to be able to do it too, during the War. He also didn't think about the fact that it had been a long time since he knew somebody like that. Though, Natasha and him had been able to do it in certain situations.

A second past, another beat of the song, and Peggy used the hand hand that was resting on Steve's shoulder to cup his cheek and pull him down into a sweet kiss. A goodbye kiss. It only lasted a second before Peggy was pulling away, giving him a sad smile. And, as the final notes of the song played, she laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating in his chest.

"Steve," she said almost urgently. "Are you okay?! You're heart isn't beating as fast as it-"

The world was consumed in red, the colour drowning out everything in a flash.

▫ ▫ ▫

His eyes opened and he was in Avengers Tower. He knew it was the Tower instead of the Compound, because he remembered the mug in his right hand was something Tony had thought was funny, a sort of gag gift, but had become his favourite mug. Sure, it probably looked a little weird to see him drinking out of his cowled face, but he wasn't going to let the mug just sit there. He's also pretty sure that if he wasn't using it, Tony was. He took a sip of the coffee in the mug, blinking when he tasted the black coffee made with expensive beans that Tony enjoyed.

"Cap!?" Was called from the other room, Tony's familiar voice seizing Steve's heart. With the mug in hand, he made his way out of the kitchen, scooping up the popcorn he was probably meant to refill from the counter on his way by. The New York skyline was bathed in purple as he walked into the open living room, spotting the familiar layout of the Tower circa 2012. After the Battle for New York, when the team had started bonding and instated movie nights.

Everyone was there. Clint had managed to score the single chair that reclined, smiling widely at Steve as he waved his fingers at him. He was wearing plain blue sweatpants and a regular t-shirt, obviously ready to either pass out during the movie or make it to his floor to pass out after. Thor and Bruce made up the love seat. The Asgardian was wearing pajama pants that had stars and planets on them, his shirt white, his long hair pulled up into a comfortable bun away from his face. Steve thought it was nice to see him taking car of himself, seeing him open and happy. Especially after the last five years. Bruce was dressed a lot like Clint, but was wearing purple pants. They all knew it was a joke between them, because of the Hulk's purple stretchy pants, but nobody made a comment about it. Maybe Tony had scoffed at the sight, but that was really it.

Nat was there, this time. She gave him a tired smile and a nod. Steve knew it was a thank you for allowing her to be with him in this setting. The last two were from him, and this may have also been for him, but she needed this too. This was the last time she was probably going to see the team like this, so this was basically a goodbye for her. And if it was sitting on the couch, her pajama shorts and tank top probably chilly and she'd share the blanket on the back of the couch with Steve half-way through the movie, then this was a perfect send off.

She was with her family.

Tony was sat on the opposite side of the couch from Natasha, leaving the space in the middle empty for Steve. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, looking exhausted, arc reactor glowing steadily in his chest. The image of it made Steve's breath leave his lungs in a punch. The last couple of times he saw the arc reactor was when Tony had shoved it into his hand, malnourished, the _liar _he had said echoing in Steve's brain and then before that in Siberia. Neither were happy moments. Yet, when Tony turned to look at Steve from his phone, probably scrolling through Stark Industries emails from Pepper, Steve could only feel fondness when he saw the motor oil Tony had missed on the side of his jaw.

"Ah, finally, we can start!" Tony smiled, brown eyes alight with something close to happiness. Then, he made grabby hands at the mug in Steve's hands. Steve moved forward, setting it down on the low coffee table near Tony, the popcorn being passed to Thor and Bruce, before settling in between Nat and Tony. "Who's ready for the Hunger Games! I hope you're ready for this, Katniss."

"You know, just because I use a bow and arrow doesn't mean you can compare me to Katniss Everdeen," Clint said, faking exasperation as the movie cued up on Tony's once-state of the art T.V. Steve remember he used to watch it with such interest because they never had anything like that in the '40s. And now he hates himself for all that time living in the past when he could have been looking toward the future and the present. Tony should have made him get a life. "She's way cooler than me, that would disgrace her name and the struggles she went through to get to where she is. She fought in a rebellion, I shoot arrows at aliens. She saved Panem, I could never be on that level."

Steve felt a hand on his knee and turned his head to look at Natasha. Everything changed in that moment. The landscape turned barren, the world glowing an eerie colour of orange that Steve knew he would see in another one of these scenes. He was standing in a small layer of water, though he couldn't feel any of the coolness that should be seeping into his uniform's boots. The scaled armor that Tony had built during the five years after the snap to now was back on his body instead of the sweatpants shirt combo of movie night, ash, dirt, and blood clinging to what felt like his soul.

He walked the couple of feet to Natasha. She was wearing her suit from the last time he had saw her, her hair braided beautiful on the back of her head, half red, half blonde. She didn't look at him when he came to a stop beside her, their shoulders brushing. "You know, I didn't exactly mean this when I said _I'll see you in a minute_. What happened, Steve?"

Steve stared into the orange light, letting out a breath," We won."

The world changed back to the Avengers' Tower living room, Nat looking at him with tears flooding her vision and a sad smile on her face. Distantly, Clint and Bruce were trying to explain the plot to Thor about what the Hunger Games was about. He wondered if Thor and Bruce thought about it while on Sakaar (or wherever Bruce and Thor had went in their tale of how Asgard got destroyed by Thor's older sister).

"Cap? Nat?" Tony spoke quietly. Steve saw Nat's eyes flicker to Tony for a moment, before she looked back at Steve. She raised a hand, patted his cheek twice, before pushing him to look at Tony. The man in question was looking at them with a concerned kind of confusion on his face, his eyes expressing the emotion more than his expression ever could. It was so easy to read Tony if you were able to see his eyes. "Please don't tell me that you two have some kind of psychic link, too. I can barely take Clint and Natasha knowing every move the other is going to make."

"Please," Clint scoffs, "Rogers _wishes _he had that type of repertoire with Nat. Plus, Nat and I have Budapest to prove our bond."

"And what happened in Budapest, Clint?" Thor asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked between Nat and Clint. Steve's eyes never left Tony's face, watching the lose posture and simple way that Tony trusted everyone in the room. Some more than others, sure. But there was that level of trust that was missing in 2023.

Tony met his eyes, "You okay, Cap?"

Steve found himself holding back a flinch. _And guess what, Cap? We lost! _Steve turned to the T.V, staring at the screen. "I'm just ready to watch the movie." And if he spent the movie staring at Tony, that was nobody's business but his.

Thor cried the hardest when Rue died, Clint cheered _Peeniss! _every time Katniss and Peeta did something cute, Bruce winced when the genetically modified mutts were on screen, Nat criticized every single person's fighting form (except Katniss'), Tony looked like he was barely watching, distracted by some equation in his head that would probably be some fantastic invention. And Steve stared. Because that's all he really could do.

When the movie was done, Katniss and Peeta back in District Twelve and the credits rolling, everyone got up. Clint shuffled to the elevator, Thor and Bruce behind him, chatting animatedly about the movie. Steve was pretty sure Thor was talking about the dress being on fire and how Asgard could do something similar. Tony wandered back to the kitchen, obviously going to get more coffee to go back down to tinker in the workshop. Steve really should stop him, make him go to bed, but his energy for that seemed to leave.

He stood, walked to the windows to take in New York. It seemed to be pretty well fixed from the Battle, the streets still alive at this time of night. The purple was starting to pulsate, like it did in the other visions, and Steve could feel that it was starting to get harder to breathe. A hand on his elbow made him turn to Natasha, who smiled gently at him.

"Спокойной ночи капитан." _Goodnight, Captain. _She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he squeezed her in the hug, having missed her even if she had died only a couple of hours ago.

"I'll see you later, Nat," he watched her smile, nod, then deftly make her way to the elevator. He turned back to stare out the windows.

"You okay there, Cap?" Tony asked, from where he was in the space between kitchen and living room. Steve turned back to him and tried to smile, his eyes checking Tony's body one last time for any hints of pain or tenseness. He looked content, Captain America mug in hand.

"Yeah," Steve told him, "Just tired."

Tony took a step forward as Steve turned back to the purple skyline. It was glowing brighter now, the violet blocking almost everything out. "Really, because you're looking pretty pale there." He felt Tony touch his elbow and closed his eyes, focusing on that warmth as the back of his eyelids glowed purple due to the light.

It took longer than it should have to pry his eyes open to take in the ruined land that the Compound had once been in. Bucky was still by him, though he had retreated a step back and was blinking to keep the tears at bay. Tony, Thor, and Sam were still right there, looking at Steve with varying degrees of sadness. Steve opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry. And instead of the pain making its way through his veins, it was replaced by a cold. It was invading him, making him want to shiver. The taste of ash and blood was just as bad as that of metal and salt water.

"I think I lost your hammer," Steve told Thor, trying to go for lighthearted but missing the mark. His voice only came out tired and hoarse, it almost being too much effort to speak. However, he held his hand up, trying to find the will to call Mjolnir to his side. Thor caught his hand to stop him, smiling sadly at him.

"Megi Halls í Valhalla bjóða þig velkominn, bróðir. Þú hefur verið verðugur vinur á þessum tíma. Það hefur verið heiður að berjast við hliðina á þér, skipstjóri," Thor said, his voice low and his eyes sad. Though, there was no tears in them. Steve assumed that he had seen people fall on the battlefield more than Steve had in World War II. "May the Halls of Valhalla welcome you, brother. You have been a worthy friend in this time. It has been an honour to fight beside you, Captain."

"The honour was all mine, Thor," Steve told him, feeling his lungs start to constrict. He felt the ice slowly start to try to invade them, but his genes were fighting hard to keep him alive. He was surprised they could still do that. The Infinity Stones felt like they had fried his systems and made it impossible. Though, Steve would have to thank Erskine for this time when he saw him. And for everything else.

"Steve?" A voice asked, and Steve hadn't realized his eyes were sliding shut. He tried to open them to see who was talking to him. "Come on, Steve, you have to stay alive."

Steve could only hum as his eyes slipped shut again.

▫ ▫ ▫

The sound of footfalls on the cement were soothing to Steve. It was a familiar route to him, one he had ran a lot when he had been stationed in DC. It was the one he had met Sam at, the one he had went out of his way to pass Sam a couple times with the familiar _on your left _just to get on his nerves. Not that Sam would ever know that.

Not that he could tell Sam that now.

He glanced over, couldn't help but smile as he noticed Sam jogging beside him. It wasn't like that day in Washington, when he had been running for a warm up to the mission he was about to go on. This was simply two friends jogging together, pacing the other, keeping the other company.

It was peaceful. Even with the sky already pulsing a muted yellow, Natasha not in sight, it was nice. Steve gave Sam a look, picking up his pace to pass the man, before he was saying over his shoulder, "Race ya!"

"Oh no you don't!" Sam yelled at his back as Steve took off sprinting, laughing into the open air as he heard Sam try to catch up. Steve ignored his lungs burning from something other than running, feeling like an asthma attack coming on, and pushed himself to his body's full potential. He made it to the tree that Sam had been sitting at when they had first talked, leaning against it as he watched Sam sprint the last amount of meters to him. He hadn't fallen as far back as Steve would have thought.

Steve smiled at him, "Need a medic?"

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be?" Sam replied, playful smile on his face. Steve smiled, glad for the banter as he gazed around at the scenery. It was a little fuzzy around the edges and Steve really didn't want to think about what that meant. The Washington Monument was just how he remembered it, even after everything that happened with Spider-Man. Those couple of months after the team had split up had been the hardest, hoping that Tony would call and keeping an ear to the ground for anything that sounded like Avengers' business.

The silence that fell between them was comfortable, Sam breathing deeply to seize how he was panting from sprinting. It was nice to just be in his company like this, without having to worry about getting arrested. The five years without Sam had been lonelier than usual. It had been terrible to lose Bucky, but he had already dealt with that loss multiple times. Sam had been with him since they had found out S.H.I.E.L.D was HYDRA and had stuck with him through thick and thin and everything in between that. The man had become a rock in all the trying times.

"You're a good man, Sam," Steve told him, glancing back over to him. The idea sparked in his brain when he glanced over at his friend and saw the light in his eyes and the goodness that was in his posture and body language.

"That's not what Bucky said," Sam joked, giving Steve a smile. Steve found himself scoffing and shaking his head.

"Bucky has always been full of shit."

"Funny, that's what he said about you."

"Like I said, full of shit."

A hand clapped down on his shoulder. Steve didn't really react to the sensation because there was _no _sensation. He stared at Sam's hand, could see the fabric of his short bunch where Sam was squeezing, but his nerves didn't seem to be firing. _Oh no,_ he thought, the world around him pulsing yellow, making him squint his eyes. _It's gonna be soon._

"Hey, man, are you okay?" Sam asked. Steve turned to with a small smile, hoping that it conveyed reassurance.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking," Steve told him truthfully, the idea now fully formed as the world brightened into yellow before his eyes. Steve was back on the battlefield again, the world getting darker around the edges and it took a minute for his eyes to focus and find Sam. His body ached. And not in the good way it would've after the run he had envisioned with Sam. It was like the ache was in his bones, infused in his blood. He wondered if this is what it would have been like for him if he had never signed up for Project: Rebirth but had still fought in the war. Would he had even survived long enough to feel like this? Someone shaking his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. Right. He had to do this now or it wouldn't get done.

"Sam," he rasped, moving the arm with the shield on it. It sent a flash of pain through him, which surprised him, but then he remembered that Thanos had cut that arm open and he had been using the straps to hold it together. However, the pain was muted and he knew it wouldn't be long now before his body shut down. He needed to pass the mantle on now. "I think-" he wheezed, tried to inhale and felt the shallow breath barely enter, "-I think this is yours."

"Cap?" Sam asked, his voice barely a whisper. Or Steve just couldn't hear anything. And he didn't try to speak again, just nodded his head minutely. On the edge of his vision, he could see the people he had just fought with bowing their heads.

Not much time left at all.

▫ ▫ ▫

It was green this time. The world was tinged in it, a not quite emerald colour bathing everything in Steve's line of sight. He almost didn't recognize where he was in that moment, the surroundings from a long time ago. The only reason he remembered was because he stepped through the door and saw his father yelling at his mouth. He had no recognition of this, his father dying when he was too young to remember him, but Sarah Rogers was standing in front of the table, in between Joseph and a little boy that looked a lot like when he was younger hiding under the table.

The smack came as a shock. Sarah collapsed as Steve stood there, not sure what to do. He only knew the gist of the yelling match was about how Joseph not getting any work and how someone hated the Irish and something about Joseph's father.

Steve watched as Sarah, who had been keeled over from the first hit, raise to her feet and say something about going to the foreman with clear eyes. The next smack was not surprising, but Steve still winced and felt a burning rage settle in his gut, his fists clenching beside his sides. He went to take a step forward but was blocked by some invisible force. He watched in pride as his mom, who had been gripping her face, straightened out, blood running from her nose and lip, answering Joseph's _what are you suggesting_ statement with: "What I'm _suggesting, _Joseph, is you get to work... in the _morning_..." Sara stood to her full height and seemed to tower over Joseph, even if she was shorter than "_Sober!_"

Steve watched Joseph falter at his mother's nerve, before he was fleeing out the door. He glared at Joseph's back until he couldn't see him anymore, glad that he was dead. If this is what he would have acted like if he was still alive, good riddance.

Sarah leaned down to the Steve cowering under the table and coaxed him out. Steve watched his younger self throw his arms around his mom and burrow his tear stained face into her shoulder. Sarah soothed her son by running a hand through his hair until he was able to talk, to which he then pulled away and asked between sobs still wracking his tiny body, "Wh-why didn't you j-just stay down, mama?"

Sarah cupped his face, the blood still on her's, and wiped his tears away with her thumbs, "Because, and you listen close, Steven..." Steve watched himself sniffle, a minuscule nod barely seen before Sarah continued, "... you always stand up."

_"I can do this all day," _Steve proclaimed, standing up for the younger boy who some bullies had been picking on, directing their harsh punches and even harsher words on to him. _"I can do this all day," _he put his fists up in defense, going for another swing before the man he had told to shut up socked him right in the jaw. _"I can do this all day,"_ he heaved to himself, his asthma acting up as he ran through the training drills behind everyone else. _"I can do this all day,"_ was spat into the face of the Red Skull, before the battle that changed the tide of the war officially began. _"I can do this all day," _he thought to himself as Bucky had punched his face over and over again on the helicarrier. _"I can do this all day," _he had told Tony, standing up, exhausted physically and emotionally from defending Bucky from Tony and Tony from his guilt. _"I can do this all day," _he whispered to himself as he tightened the shield on his forearm, limping forward to face Thanos and his army alone, Thor and Tony down for the count and the rest of the Avengers missing or dead from the Mad Titan blowing up the Compound.

Steve sunk to his knees, staring at Sarah, who was suddenly in front of him and wrapping her small arms around Steve. He clutched back, felt the tears start to stream down his face, burrowing that into her shoulder like his doppelganger had. The sent that was distinctly _Sarah Rogers_ flooded his senses and he couldn't believe he had forgotten what his ma had smelt like. Disinfectant from her work at the hospital, but of all the things she cooked that he could eat with his allergies. And when she shushed him, he clung tighter to her, the emotions swarming because her voice in his ear just sounded right.

After a few long moments of the two of them just clutching each other, Sarah moved his head back and cupped his cheeks, rubbing her hands through the dirt and blood and whispered, "Oh, Steve."

"I don't know if I can stand up again, Ma," Steve told her, shaking his head, "I think it's going to be a little harder this time."

She ran a soothing hand through his hair, the green in her eyes matching that of the landscape. It's where he got those speckles in his eyes, the ones Zemo was so excited to point out before everything with Tony and Bucky had happened.

"I think this, Steve, it's okay. You can lay down now. The world is going to be okay without. There's no more fight. There's no more war. You get to finally rest."

Steve didn't know what to say. He know he should argue, that there was always a fight, there was always something to improve in the world. He was just _so tired. _Steve wanted to lay down with his mother and read _the Hobbit _again, go on that adventure with Bilbo before finally falling into a peaceful sleep. On that wasn't plagued with ice or aliens or the heartbroken expression of acceptance when Tony had thought Steve was going to slam the shield down on his neck. He wanted _rest_.

So, he found himself nodding, "Okay, Ma." He clutched her tighter, "Okay."

The green of her eyes consumed him.

▫ ▫ ▫

It was warm. And not in a suffocating way. Steve felt himself sink farther down into the comfortable bed, the silky feeling of the sheets a caress against his naked body. His eyes popped open, something deeply wrong. For one, he was never used to sleeping on something so soft, even at the Tower/Compound. Tony had been mindful that Steve hadn't been ready for this soft of a bed and then Steve just hadn't asked for a new one. Another thing, the sheets had definitely not been what felt like silk but was probably Egyptian Cotton with an extremely high thread count. He's pretty sure the only person in the Tower to have such sheets would be _Tony._

"Go back to sleep, I can hear you thinking," the tired voice of said man mumbled, pulling himself closer where the two of them were cuddled together under the covers. Steve blinked at the ceiling, trying to think about how he got here. The orange tinge of the usually white ceiling gave it away, but he wondered why it happened to place him here. In bed, his limbs entangled with Tony, a sweet pain in his ass from, what Steve can only guess, sex. "Steve, seriously," Tony's mussed head popped off of his chest, hair a wild mess of curls, brown eyes tired but glowing. He looked _rested. _And _happy_. "You promised you weren't going to wake up for your run. I have no meetings today, nothing pulling me to the lab or R&D. It's Sunday. I want to sleep in and then have lazy morning sex with you." The next words made a shiver run down Steve's spine, "You're hopefully still a little loose from last night."

Steve couldn't help the involuntary groan at those words or the thoughts that they brought to his mind. Tony loosening him up until he begged for it before sinking in all the way, connecting them in such a close way, then fucking him loose. Fucking him until all he could do was moan and say Tony's name and bare down to help Tony get off because he'll be so far gone that everything will feel good.

Tony's smirking face invaded Steve's vision, clearly knowing what he was thinking about. The man leaned down and captured Steve's lips with his own, the kiss starting chaste but turning dirty soon after. Steve tried to stop himself, tried to tell himself that Tony was with _Pepper, _that they had a _daughter_. It didn't help and he found himself cupping Tony's face to pull him closer, moaning into Tony's mouth as he felt the man's clever hands move down his body, flicking at his nipples but not pausing.

Steve let his own hands roam, feel the expanse of skin that was Tony's back, the lean muscles he has from all the time spent in the lab. He didn't tense when he felt Tony's callused finger trace the seam of his ass or finger at the ring of muscle there. No, what made him fucking tense up was the feeling of the arc reactor sitting in Tony's chest. Tony made a disappointed noise when Steve pulled back, stared down at his chest. Steve felt himself flinch when he noticed it wasn't the removable one with the nanotech built into it. No, this one was the one that Tony used to have when they first met. This one was still in his chest, glowing with life, powering Tony's heart. 

Like the one Steve had slammed his shield into.

Sure, that one had only been powering the suit, but what if it had not been?

Steve wretched himself out of Tony's hold and scrambled out of bed, clinging to his chest as he suddenly couldn't breathe. He gagged, felt the guilt wash over him in waves so deep he felt like he was drowning again. He had left Tony in Siberia all by himself, injured and his suit broken, all because he hadn't been brave enough to tell him about what the Winter Soldier had done to his parents. He hadn't thought about the fact that Tony could have _died_, he just needed to get Bucky out and away and safe.

Zemo's planned had worked. To tear the Avengers apart, all you needed to do was pit Tony and Steve against each other. Especially on a matter that they both disagreed with. The Sokovia Accords had only pulled the tension taunt between them, it hadn't been what broke them apart. They probably could have negotiated and made them acceptable for everyone to sign (as long as Ross had nothing to do with them). No. Adding Bucky into the equation, the only connection Steve had from is past, his best friend, and Steve would lose his mind, be that little guy from Brooklyn all over again. He was fiercely protective of him, especially since he already lost him, and Zemo had exploited that.

It's a good thing this was only a vision brought on by the stone. Steve didn't deserve Tony. He never would.

"Steve, baby, what's wrong?" Tony's panicked voice broke through the ringing in his ears and Steve squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Tony's hands on his back, massaging at his muscles. He shook his head, hoping that Tony would get it, that he didn't want to be touched, that he didn't deserve Tony touching him. Pepper deserved it. Pepper had been there for Tony through it all, since before he even announced that he was Iron Man. What right did Steve have to his heart? What right did Steve have to even be his friend anymore?

He didn't. Not after what he did. And he couldn't believe that he had tried to ask Tony to work with even when he was malnourished and starving and tired and basically dead back when Thanos had left only half of Earth's (and the Universe's) population to pick up the pieces of his attack. He hadn't even formally apologized to the man for the events with Zemo.

"Baby, please talk to me," Tony said gently, his hands trying to be soothing on the tense muscles of Steve's back. It felt like sandpaper scraping over his skin, tearing the skin up and leaving wounds in their place. Steve just shook his head more, clamping his eyes shut even more tightly. "Steve, it's alright, you're going to be alright. You're in the Compound and if you need Bucky or Sam or Nat they're just a shout away."

Steve shook his head, couldn't stop shaking his head. Bucky was taken apart, piece by piece, and put back together because he didn't search for him back in 1945. Sam was a war criminal because he had decided that following Steve was a good idea. Nat was dead because Steve had assigned her to Vormir with Clint. Tony had almost died in space, the dark expanse of nothingness, because Steve had said _together _and then he abandoned him.

It was all his fault.

The world lit up in orange and Steve was hoping this was goodbye.

His eyes opened to those same brown eyes he was trying to avoid. Tony's expressive eyes were full of tears, tracks through the dirt on his cheeks where they had ran through the ash, and Steve didn't deserve him. Never deserved him. Everyone had held Captain America to such a high standard, but it was Tony they should have been looking up to. He has tried to sacrifice himself again and again, laying down on the metaphorical wire Steve had talked about, yelled about, when they had first met. Steve had only put a plane into the ocean, while Tony had flown a nuke through a wormhole, broke apart a would-be meteor with a chance of dying, got into a unknown alien's space ship to try and save the world from Thanos and almost succeeded in it, way more than Steve could have.

Tony had known this was coming, had been telling them for ages. It was Steve's fault that he didn't listen. The world need Tony Stark. The world didn't need Steve Rogers -- hadn't needed Steve Rogers ever really. He had been a fluke, that one lucky soldier to be chosen for Project: Rebirth and have it work. The mantle of Captain America could be past along -- was being past along to someone who deserved it, would be the man the world needed as the hero.

Steve was going to rest now. Like his Ma had told him to.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Steve croaked, realizing that he couldn't feel anything anymore. His body wasn't reproducing his cells, the ice cold pain that had flooded his veins and froze his nerve endings completed his task. He could feel his eyes drooping shut, tried to keep them open. He was breathing hard, couldn't fill his lungs. It was like he was stuck in bed with a fever so bad he could barely move, breathe, do _anything_. So, this is what dying was like. "For everything."

"Stop talking like that, Steve," Tony demanded, his hands grappling across Steve's uniform. Steve could still feel how shaky his hands were as they tried to look for the straps to take the suit off easier. "You're going to make it. You're going to keep doing your therapy circles, you're going to keep training the new members of the team, you're going to keep being a pain in my ass that I pretend I'm not fond of, you're going to come to Morgan's birthday party and get her art supplies that I'm going to get her in trouble for drawing on the walls and then have you come over and immortalize the drawings with your stupid, fantastic art! Steve, you can't die, _please_."

Steve noticed that Sam, Bucky, and Thor had moved away, each one with their head ducked down.

Tony was using his callused hand to drag his gaze back to his and then pushing their mouths together. Steve didn't have the energy to push him away or kiss him back. _I love you, Steve, please don't leave me, please, Steve, I love you _was whispered into his lips and Steve felt like his heart was getting ripped from his chest. He didn't deserve this.

"No, Tony," he said, maybe a little brokenly. "You don't. And that's-" he wheezed, tried to get a breath in, to finish this before he couldn't anymore. "-that's okay. The world-" a shallow breath, "needs Iron Man." The air felt heavy as he breathed it in, "It doesn't need-" it was getting really hard to breath now, "-Steve Rogers."

"I need Steve Rogers," Tony whispered, his grip on the scaled armor tightening that much more. Steve only smiled sadly, shaking his head.

He took a huge breath, as big as he could with his seemingly shrinking lung capacity, smiled that relieved smile he had all those years ago, after Tony had been caught by the Hulk and woken up by his roar. Gave Tony that same look, before whispering, "We won."

▫ ▫ ▫

Tony had went through the battlefield, combed through the whole thing, the find the broken pieces of the shield. It sat up there, whole, not a single scratch or crack on it. The memorial not been a quick thing, had took months of planning and building and each remaining original Avenger had gotten a say on how it was designed. It was sculpted out of some kind of beautiful rock, strong, a square column standing solitary in the new Compound's entrance where everyone could see it and walk by.

One side had a glass window, Natasha's Widow's Bites and her belt clear for everyone to see.

_Natalia Alianovna Romanoff_  
_"Black Widow"_  
_I used to have nothing, then I got this family_

On the other side, the shield Tony had repaired propped up behind the same kind of glass, not a scratch nor crack nor chip in the paint.

_Steven Grant Rogers_  
_"Captain America"_  
_I'm just a kid from Brooklyn_

**Author's Note:**

> bottom!steve rights!! i am a sucker for steve being dicked down and giving up control so yes, that is referenced in this. sorry if you're uncomfortable about it. i didn't even think i was gonna write smut-ish stuff.
> 
> each scene is represented by an infinity stone, hence the colour. i'm not sure if it worked well, but this is how this monster has been written and i kind of like it. it gives it some sort of structure and that helped me a lot writing this. this is also the most i've written for a single chapter and is about 9200 words.
> 
> the reason bucky switches from 40s!bucky to post-tws!bucky was because in the 40s was the last time bucky had actually been steve's best friend bucky. he was becoming steve's bucky again thanks to shuri and t'challa but he wasn't quite there yet.
> 
> i have no idea how tony's nanotech suit works, but for the sake of the one-shot, the armor can be controlled by people that are inputted into the system made by tony and i am a firm believer that tony and steve forgave each other (even if they didn't talk about it) and so tony allowed steve to have access to everything still.
> 
> i do not know who peggy's love interest in agent carter was supposed to be, and ofc the russos are dumbasses and think that steve has always been her husband, but i did some googling and daniel sousa seemed like the best choice. also, peggy was cut off and worried about steve's heart because it wasn't at his regular beats per minute.
> 
> i didn't think this was gonna be as angsty as it was. everything is the same in endgame except obviously steve sacrifices himself instead of letting tony. so tony can see morgan and peter and harley grow up and be married to pepper.
> 
> natasha deserved a funeral/memorial. steve wouldn't want a funeral. tony still had a small one with the avengers and sharon and all the people that steve was 'friends' with. i think he would have been okay with the memorial.
> 
> tony made sam a new shield (and regularly updates bucky's arm)
> 
> the scene with sarah, joseph, and young!steve is from 'captain america vol.7 #1'. i think it's a very good scene to show why steve stands up to bullies. yes, mcu!joseph died from mustard gas, i believe they changed joseph in 616 to an abusive asshole.
> 
> the 'gail' i mention in bucky's vision is actually from marvel's ultimates comics where gail is basically the love of steve's life and he's going to marry her but then he goes into the ice and surprise! bucky and her end up getting married (at least, that's what the fanfiction i read said and the author is really into the comics).
> 
> this is my first time posting on AO3 so i hope you guys enjoyed it? this is also on my wattpad lmao


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